Battle Scars
by Mr. CyborgPineappleIsland II
Summary: Scarlett O'Hara is someone that hates to get the short end of the stick...especially when it comes to money. Knowing this, nothing good can happen if a certain mafia boss cheats her out of several million dollars. [Part of the Total Drama Writers' Forum SS Exchange-Gift for Lowland Warrior]


_**A/N: So here is my SS fic for a friend of mine (even though I didn't know about it until in the last 24 hours) in the Total Drama Writers' Forum! I hope you enjoy this Kjeld aka Lowland Warrior! I hope you like it, especially seeing as how much room I had to work with this as the only stipulation was for it to have Scarlett. While writing this, everything feels fast pace, but that feels fitting for a story like this.**_

 _ **So without further ado…**_

"Scar! A pleasure to see you as always!" His smile was gilded and as polished as his suit as he sat almost lazily at a stainless steel table, though his eyes never missed a beat. Two of his goons stood on either side of him, their hulking size compensating for their lack of intellect.

The woman, normally known as Scarlett O'Hara (though her "friends" called her Scar on occasion), found the dim light fitting for the shady business that was about to ensue. The black leather suitcase in her right hand reminded her of why she was doing it. "Believe me, Mr. Cooke," she said, "the pleasure is all mine." She marched with calculated steps, stopping in front of her part-time boss and full-time client. To her, this was nothing more than a business proposition.

"Please. After this, you can just call me Duncan." He paused as she set the case on the table and flipped it 180 degrees to face Duncan. "Is it in there?"

"Why, I cannot fathom what else it could possibly be."She gave her own smile of amusement that lasted for a few seconds, more towards her pride of her work than what was said. She then proceeded to simultaneously open both locks of the small box.

Filling lined the inside of the box to keep the objects secure from being rustled around. Inside it was a small, round hat. Below it were three needles- one with neon blue liquid, another with a clear consistency, and the last one with an almost solid-yellow substance. "Here it is. The other members of the experiment like to call it Formula 1 with the efficiency in which it works. I hope you will find it to your satisfaction."

Duncan's eyes lit up in an expression of open amazement. "Haha, Scar! You never cease to amaze me. Does it do what I asked for?"

"That, and more," she said confidently. "Not only can it torture any type of information out of people, but I've taken the liberty to add a little... surprise."

The sitting man leaned in further. "Oh ho ho, Scarlett. You just _want_ to be paid extra, don't you?"

He was answered with another smile. "Are you ready for the initial experiments to be carried out? Our subject is waiting for us, after all."

* * *

A group of five people walked toward a sealed, rusty door. Leading it was none other than Scarlett with the case still firmly in her right hand. Behind her was a giant man that, despite being more fat than muscle, was a man that could be seen as more or less intimidating with his African skin and scraggly facial hair. Behind him was Duncan, sandwiched between his two goons with their hands discreetly hidden in their black jackets to hold their 8mm caliber pistols.

The group halted as the black man produced an access card from his coat and slid it into a slot next to the door. A metallic click was barely audible as Scarlett passed by him. "Thank you, Beverly," she murmured to her larger companion. He nodded and let her pass through first, followed by the three intimidating-looking men. He looked behind him with suspicion before shutting the door.

The room was not a surprise for holding a captive in the criminal underworld. Every wall was pure and plain concrete, with the prevalent exception of dirt and dim light providing a small amount of vision. A lone figure sat in the center, a skinny white male with brown hair, gagged and tied to a metal, armless chair. Small cries were audible from him, and his bound arms were constantly on the move for escape.

As soon as everyone made it into the cell, Scarlett began to make a small monologue. She circled around him slowly. "Cody. Emmett. Jameson. Anderson. A formally local video game and comic book store owner that is currently unemployed and living in his car. Single. Type O blood. Goes to the strip club on 5th and Dawson Street every week like it was church. No relation with any family members nor with the law or crime. Today, he will serve as the first human patient of Formula 1." She whispered the last part in his ear, making him cry and squirm while staring helplessly at his tormentor.

With a snap of her fingers, Beverly walked toward her with his arms outstretched from his elbows, waiting for her further instructions. The redhead placed the leather briefcase in his arms at a high enough elevation so that she would not have to bend down to open it, although he was forced to bend down slightly to meet her height.

She snatched the metal hat from the filling and placed it on top of Anderson's head, fastening on the straps attached to it. She turned around to retrieve the first needle, but Duncan stopped her before she could start the experiment. It was not much of a surprise to her, for it was not like her client to not ask questions.

"Why do you have _that_ pathetic loser?" he scoffed. "I don't want him."

"Simple," she replied. "The answer is two-fold. If, in the unlikely event, the experiment proves to be fruitless, no one would miss this... plebeian. Second, even if we took someone of importance and the experiment was successful- which I ensure you, it will be- that would be too complicated to mess with for such an, arguably, frugal matter."

He smirked. "Fair enough." A moment of silence passed. "What do you plan to do with him, anyway?"

"This is the... fun part," she said, making it evident that she wanted the word "fun" to stick out. "I will ask him personal and intimidating questions. If he tries to lie, he will suffer the consequences. This will be the first _truly_ successful truth serum. I will not bore you with the details of how it works." She grabbed the white needle from B (as he was also called) and turned to Cody, snatching the gag from his mouth. "Mr. Anderson. This is your final chance to say anything- honest or deceitful."

Sobs came out and echoed along the walls. With the small ounce of dignity he had left, he pulled himself together. "Please... I... I will do anything-"

"Good." She violently grabbed the right side of his face and injected the liquid into his neck. His screamed unintelligibly, taking on a hoarse tone as his eyes turned bloodshot. Silence grew at the same pace of the blue veins on his person. The event happened in the span of four seconds.

"As you can tell," she said, speaking as though nothing important had happened, "through my personal mixture, Mix A of Formula 1, Mr. Anderson is going through the first stage: compliancy. He is compelled to do as I say now, and hypothetically speaking, would be inclined to tell the truth if I told him to do so. But this is only the first half of what is needed to make this truly effective."

Her prisoner's head drifted limply to one side, showing a faint existence of life as it softly jerked upwards, only to fall down again just as quickly.

Scarlet strode with purpose to the clear needle. After measuring for her judgment of accuracy, she stuck said needle in his left eye until the transparent liquid had been transported into his body. His audience neither winced nor batted an eye. "Now, with the aid of Mix B of Formula 1, we are in the second stage: retribution. No matter what, he will tell the truth, but the more he tries to resist, the more pain will course throughout his body. But this combined with Mix A proves to yield a pleasant surprise. Because he is candor and amenable, our lab found that it also comes with the ability to create entirely new memories."

"Wait. What?" Duncan said. Her final sentence had caught his interest more than anything else she had said.

"All that is needed is to activate the function is to force the recollection of a memory. You order them to forget said memory, and anything you say to replace it with, no matter how improbable, will be forced to be believed as the original memory."

He chuckled in admiration to the invention. "Well... I'm sold!"

Scarlett paused. Her blood moved in excitement, but her body did not betray her sadistic demeanor. It was common knowledge that Duncan was a compulsive man, and whenever he came to one of her showcases (mainly her private ones), he was quick to purchase with his extensive amount of wealth. If he had been skeptical, he would have had a representative to inspect the product for him. "Excellent," she said. "One of my associates will contact yours."

After settling out a few more details of when to collect Formula 1, Duncan and his goons swiftly left the room with the air of empowerment. Once they were alone, Scarlett turned to her darker counterpart and walked toward Cody. She smiled. "Well, Beverly, I believe this has been a highly successful day." Quickly, she pulled out a gun and shot Mr. Anderson between the eyes.

* * *

A white girl entered a laboratory while wearing the appropriate clothes for it. She held an ice pack to her face, and the only other occupant snorted at her misfortune. "What happened to you, Ellody? Scarlett not take the news well?"

"No, Mary, she did not," she said in exasperation. "It was a good idea for us to make sure that we told her in a friendly coffee shop, though."

Mary suppressed a giggle. "So, we were right?"

Ellody joined in the suppressed giggling. "Yes. Yes, we were. And I have a video to prove it."

The two walked toward a medium-sized television monitor that was old with an antique shine. Ellody produced a remote from her white coat and started a video pre-recorded into the television. The scene opened with Ellody in more casual apparel and Scarlett in the type of sweater that she normally donned. The environment held a low-key atmosphere, fit for a cafe.

"You're telling me... Duncan has cut me short by _three million dollars?_ " Scarlett seethed. "OVER _COFFEE!?"_

"Yes, ma'am. I hoped being in a public setting would socially pressure you to act calmer."

"I AM CALM, ELLODY!"

"I'm sure you are, but I don't think security buys it."

Buff men attempted to escort the genius out of the premise. Unfortunately for them, Scarlett grabbed a butter knife and prepared to stab one of the men in the neck.

"Luckily no one was seriously hurt... physically, that is," Ellody said, sharing a laugh with Mary. They quickly cleared their throats so that there would be no danger of them being overheard by a higher-up.

"So, how did you get that discoloration?" Mary said.

"... Scarlett was still angry when I took her from custody."

Mary rolled her eyes. Even she did not know if it was out of amusement or annoyance. They began to gather a small group to start their next experiments for the demand of a "dissolving bullet".

* * *

The change in scenery was quite noticeable from that of the two engineers. The air breathed with warmth as a fire raged in containment, facing the large desk. Along the green wall were many pictures of machines that Scarlett proudly took a part in creating. Naturally, the only reason such illegal content was posted for anyone who entered to have a view was that her office was buried underground, a few miles away from the lab where almost everyone else who worked for her was.

"This is inexcusable!" she snapped. "Unforgivable! And for a lack of better terms, _low-down!_ I am _nothing_ but loyal and patient to that eccentric, childish bitch. Does he not know who I fucking am, dammit?"

She paused in the middle of her extreme motions, giving her the impression of a passionate statue. "... Beverly. Tell Ellody and Mary to close down shop. We need to have a meeting. Now."

Her underling left quickly to grab her two heads of production. Because the two were separated, he motioned for the secretary, a pale woman with blue highlights, to notify the duo to come immediately. Custom dictated that he wait until his visitors arrived, and to pass the time, he decided to produce his sleek laptop from his trench coat. He typed for a good twenty minutes before his company arrived.

"Unsettled" would have been the word to describe the two women. They made sure to hold on to their composure as they opened the door, though it was clear that neither felt confident about meeting Scarlett in the middle of a working day without knowing the cause. B quickly closed his computer and ushered them into her office.

They entered and found the large, cushioned desk chair the woman in charge sat in to be turned backwards, facing a picture of a bag that could fit an entire person inside with pores dotting its outer coating.

Scarlett turned around, revealing an eerily calm expression. Before anyone could get a word in, she began to speak. "Do you know how exactly I became the woman that I am?" She paused as if waiting for an answer, but the three knew from early experience that she was not one to ask questions she did not know the answer to. "I fought and clawed my way up here- both in the business sense and in the physical sense. I am _not_ afraid to play dirty. And I most _definitely_ am not afraid to send out that message.

"See this picture?" Scarlett asked as she motioned to the large photo behind her desk "This is the first project that I was a part of in the Underworld. It was the beginning of my wealth and power. I learned that in order to to get what you want, you need to play underhanded if necessary.

"For that reason, I need your help to teach Duncan... and everyone else, a lesson. Mary, I know that you and Ellody are to make a delivery to Alejandro Burromuerto in five days. He has a girlfriend, Miss Heather Chung, and I need you to find a way to get your group to kidnap her. After which, I need you to forge a ransom note to make it appear as though Mr. Cooke has taken poor Mr. Burromuerto's play thing. This will be optimal, for they are rival factions."

The woman whom she directed her comment to flinched, but did not say anything.

"Ellody, while Mary is taking care of Miss Chung, I need you to make a shipment to one of Mr. Cooke's bases and plant a rumor that he has abducted her. And Beverly, it is up to you to take an overarching omnipotent role by organizing bi-hourly reports and making sure no faux pas takes place. I have my own part to take care of as well.

"When all is said and done, I want one thing to be clear. If you want to fuck over Scarlett O'Hara, you better have a death wish."

The three acted like solemn statues as they processed what they had to do and waited for more orders. Scarlett gave a warm smile. "That is all. I will have Beverly further debrief you on what needs to be done and who will work under you."

* * *

Chills ran down Mary's back with unforgiving intensity as she led the pack of Delivery Boys to a temporary meeting place of Alejandro. Normally, when Scarlett did not or could not make a personal showcase of the latest prototype of a requested device, the Delivery Boys (usually led by either Mary or Ellody) would make the "house call" in her place.

She breezed through the basic thugs' security check. The dissolving bullet gun, held by a very large man with red hair and beady eyes, was barely touched but had a weary eye on it by the men. On the pathway, Mary saw two of her men slip away from the crowd behind her. Soon, she was ushered into a dim room, something that she was not unaccustomed to.

Alejandro was, for lack of a better term, ruggedly sexy. He sat with two guards standing at attention on either side. "Hola, mi amor. ¿Como estás?"

"I'm good," she emotionlessly replied. The large red head solemnly produced the case, and they made a successful negotiation of five million dollars for one thousand bullets that were already compatible with their current guns. They agreed on a location and time, and within the hour, Mary and company quickly exited. She made sure that the cargo was tightly secured in the bag and drove back to headquarters in a timely manner.

* * *

The next day, it was time for the other half of the girls to complete her part of the plan. Like her personality, Ellody's car was smooth and calculated. But the second that her tires hit the pavement on his property, his men ambushed her. They dragged her and the several people in her car out. The woman was no stranger to what was happening, and she made sure to keep her mouth shut. Her actions had no effect on her outcome, as her mouth was covered by a cloth covered in chloroform. Her last waking moments were of her seeing her co-operators being given the same treatment before a black bag covered her head.

When she awoke, the bag had been removed, and a spotlight shined over her head in a dark room. Almost directly in front of her was a thug wielding a metal baseball bat. Seeing the common instrument of pain made her realize several things.

First, her crew and the package she was supposed to deliver were M.I.A., and there were a series of bruises across her body, meaning that she had been out for almost a day. Slowly, it came to her what had happened, and that she was tied with rough ropes to a wooden chair. It was not hard for her to realize what was about to happen.

"Ya know, Ells, it's been a good while since we last talked. What's going on with 'cha?" The man of the hour made a slow entrance into the spotlight. He had red eyes, a white smile, and a golden voice. At his entrance, his employee vanished.

"What do you want?" Ellody spat.

"Why, you of all people should know. Courtney has been taken."

Ellody tilted her head. She had figured something was going to happen to Duncan's girlfriend sometime, but then was the worst possible time for it to happen.

"Don't act confused!" Duncan yelled, causing her to flinch. He cleared his throat and continued in a calm demeanor. "We both know that Scarlett was angry at me. I know, I got a bit short on cash, but it ain't easy running things in the black market!"

If Ellody did not know any better, she could trace alcohol in his voice. "We did not kidnap Courtney. I have-"

"Shut up! Of course you'd say that! But I don't have time to deal with this." At his words, the same man that was there earlier came back into view with a device she was very familiar with.

"What!? Stop! I'm telling you the truth!" Like water seeping through a crack in a ship, panic grew quickly in her voice.

"Sure, and Court's sleeping in my bed after a six-hour sex marathon," he replied coldly. After a few minutes of her screaming, the helmet was attached to her head, and Mix A was streaming in her blood. Soon, her eyes showed the symptoms of the first stage.

"So, let's start this off with this: where's Courtney?"

"I don't know." With the snap of his fingers, he had his henchman inject Mix B in her left eye.

"Now, I ask again: where, is, Courtney?"

"I don't know."

"You know, I'd like you to know that I killed all your friends. I don't care about torture. I don't care about lives. I just want Courtney back. So, this is your last chance. I know your bitch of a boss took her last night, and I will kill you. And I will kill _her_."

"Alejandro probably took her," she said in panic.

"Wow. Lying to the bitter end despite your fucking machine. Props, but that won't do you any good now." Duncan pulled out his gun, and with no second thoughts, ended Ellody's life the same way Cody's had been.

* * *

"So, you two may be wondering why I called you to my office." Once again, the setting had moved to O'Hara's office. There was an intensely nettled aura around the woman in charge. The other two in the office, Beverly and Mary, were seated with jittering nerves. "A few minutes ago, I received a rather threatening call from both Mr. Cooke, who believes that we acquired Miss Ramirez last night."

Both looked at each other confusedly. "That being said, through observation, I have come to the conclusion that there is a mole. Duncan may be impulsive, but he isn't emotionally tied to anyone enough to openly threaten someone of high influence like myself. He knows I am going to get my money, and maybe take his life while I'm at it." She slammed a hand on her desk. "He is trying to play mind games with me! Do you not see that? And how, exactly, could he had known? Simple: there is a mole among us."

Mary gasped. "But... but that's impossible! The only two who really know anything are Beverly and I…" She paused and glanced at the larger male. "Do you think one of us is the mole?"

"Indeed." Scarlett proceeded to expose a revolver that was hidden underneath her desk. "Right here. Right now. Which one of you is the mole? Unless it's both of you."

Although many people would have regarded Mary and Ellody as the same person in most regards, one difference between them was that Mary was the more emotional one, even if it was slight. For that reason, when the woman was confronted with the possibility of death, she did not take it too well. "You're... going to kill us?"

Scarlett sighed. "Only if you are the mole. If neither of you confess, then I will have to kill both of you to make sure that the mole does not escape this room."

"There is no mole!" Mary cried out. B nodded vigorously.

"It's funny that you should agree with that, Beverly, because I have been tracking your computer for a while now. You have been giving and receiving encrypted messages from someone named Beardo. Why exactly is that?" Beverly quickly attempted to write something down, but was stopped right away. "With your _words_ , Beverly."

"He's... m-my…. bo-boyfriend."

"LIES!" She yelled. Quickly she made sure to compose herself. "But it's funny that you should mention that, because those were his dying words when we interrogated him." She shot him in his right arm out of anger, then shot him three times in the stomach. After ten seconds of watching his blood ooze with satisfaction, she ended his suffering with a shot to the heart. Like he had for most of his life, he went down silently.

Mary screamed, but quickly covered her mouth as Scarlett pointed the gun at her. The engineer grabbed her hair and cried quietly. With snot running down her nose, she said, "Why... why are you doing this?"

"This is beyond revenge now. It is pure war. At least with your death, I can use it as an example to my people." She cracked a smile. "At least in the end, I can be even more successful than I was before. I will ask you this one more time: are you the mole? I know that you are."

"... No. I am not." Mary was lucky that only two bullets in the chest took her down.

* * *

A few weeks later, Alejandro admitted to taking Courtney and "accidentally" killing her as she tried to escape. His reasoning was that as the Cold War-like tension between the two factions had increased, Duncan had taken Heather, and Alejandro had seeked revenge. This had caused Duncan's and Alejandro's faction to go into all-out war, with Scarlett's people playing on both sides. Other smaller factions and gangs had caught wind of what Scarlett had been doing and had tried to emulate it in order to gain power. But, as one would expect, organized crime had moved to full blown terrorism as large numbers of innocent people had died getting caught in the crossfire. The military and the CIA had been called to stop the deaths and succeeded in stopping all of the smaller factions, with the noticeable exceptions of the weakened original three. Sometime during all of the fighting, Heather had escaped, though it was unknown how or when.

The three realized as the dust settled that they were at a stalemate. Together, they decided to negotiate at a discrete location for where they could divide the turf. Knowing that they would be coming in person, Scarlett was able to fool them into trusting that she would be there as well, faked her presence, and blew them both up and all of their surviving important people with them.

She knew it was a risky move, but she was glad that it paid off. What she did not expect was that her work would be sloppy enough for the police to catch her. What came as an even bigger shock was that the leading investigator was none other than Heather Chung (who had to change identities after her undercover operation with Alejandro went bust), and she took great pleasure in escorting Scarlett to her new home.

* * *

The two rode in the police vehicle in silence after Scarlett's intense yelling at the moment of her capture in her office while discussing attack plans with the members of her "cabinet". Her and her members were dragged away, some literally kicking and screaming.

The criminal reflected on how she looked different from how she once was when she had simply been selling torture devices and the occasional drug to criminals. She had decided to wear her hair long and had taken away her glasses in favor of contacts to better embody her unpredictability and power. It was a looked that made her proud.

With her unblocked vision, she stared down Heather for several minutes before laughing maniacally. Heather gave her an odd look. "You may think that you have won, but in the end, I am the true victor!" Scarlett continued to laugh, and the driver rolled her eyes and continued her role as leader in a line of squad cars. The feeling of victory and defeat gushed through her body as she continued. "Do you really think that I haven't thought of the possibility of capture? Of course I have! It's just a shame that you will never see my legacy live on." She proceeded to place her right index finger and her thumb on either side of her neck. "Absūmō. Absūmō. Absūmō." She moved her hands to her lap and gave a mockingly polite smile to Heather. "Well, I wish you a good day, Miss Chung. If that is your real name."

This was it. No turning back. She entered the password and the only thing in her power was to wait for the beginning of the end of her empire. She could only smile that while she was going down, she was going to take others with her.

The car exploded, engulfing the other trailing police cars that carried other members of her mafia in the fire.

 _ **A/N: Well I hoped you like this Kjeld! Idk with what else to say...so bye man!**_

 _ **Oh wait, I do xD. Absūmō mean to take away, kill, ruin, destroy, etc in Latin, which is a language I headcannoned Scarlett knows.**_


End file.
